Clocktower Conspiracy
by Sigma-Infinity
Summary: Disillusioned, she betrayed the H.I.V.E. And where her career ended, the Titans' nemesis' was just beginning...


**Clocktower Conspiracy**

Her high heels clacked on the metal flooring. She breathed in the nauseating smell of grease and oil, heard the continuous whirring of the gears and dials, and everywhere was a hellish scene of machinery worn down by age.

She walked on, back ramrod straight and her white hair pulled back into a prudish, old-maidish bun. There was no make-up on her wrinkled face, and her lips were set into the stubbornly self-righteous countenance of the elderly.

The woman, in her crisply starched blouse and skirt, stopped at the door and turned to her escort – an ex-spy like her, but, unlike her, now in a position of menial servitude.

'Thank you, William,' she said sharply, her enunciation crisp. It was the voice of any old lady – she'd been taught by nuns in a convent. 'Thank you, that will be all.'

William Randolph Wintergreen nearly saluted, her tone was that close to a parade commander. Instead, he bowed reverently at his exalted colleague, murmured 'You're welcome, madam' and shuffled off. He had a kitchen to dust.

The woman watched him leave, then opened the door and entered with a stately carriage. There was no need to hurry: why should she, for anybody in the world?

'I believe,' she began in her clear voice, 'that you requested the services of my establishment?'

Of course he had. It was a mere formality, but like the elderly, she believed there were a certain set of procedures to be followed in any transaction – whether buying the morning papers or wrangling the right price for the next plot on Bruce Wayne's life.

'Please, Madame Romano. Have a seat first, before we discuss the matter at hand.'

The woman refused with a gesture. She'd come here to do business and she would.

_Still…_ Her eyes narrowed. _Deathstroke the Terminator come to sleepy Jump City? I should've thought he'd continue in a behind-the-scenes way, staying below the radar. Maybe double-crossing the Mafioso in Blüdhaven or Gotham, not a quiet seaside town._

'Terminator. What do you require of the Academy?'

The mercenary sounded amused when he replied – his tone was congenial, silky, and deadly.

'They don't call me that now, you know. I prefer the name Slade. It was mine, once, in another life. When I was actually a _host_, with a wife and kids and a butler – you know Wintergreen, of course.'

She did. He had been in the British Intelligence, along with her, and they'd collaborated since fifty years ago, when they worked together strangling a KGB infiltrator during a performance of Beethoven's Fifth. And he'd ended up as an apron-donning maidservant.

'So, Mr. Slade. You require?'

Slade did not reply straight away. Instead he chose to start the conversation in a surprisingly conventional way.

'You may have heard some talk that the Ravager was killed?'

'I have, yes.'

'Ah. The first Ravager was my half-brother, you know. And after that, my elder son took up the title. It was he who died.'

'My condolences.'

She was far from sorry, though. The Ravager had been a foolhardy youth who tainted the name of the hired gun business. Deadshot and Bane had been among the many violent complainants who claimed it made their connections look cheap.

'He had just accepted a contract from the H.I.V.E., Madame Romano. Taken an oath to kill a few young heroes. Most likely you know them?'

Sitting in that high-backed chair of his, in front of the glass-topped coffee table, Slade leant back, as if to ponder.

'The Teen Titans, they call themselves – there is _no_ effort, Madame Romano, to distinguish themselves from their ill-fated predecessors!'

There was an unspoken 'Shocking!' that they shared following that statement.

'Mm, yes.' And that about summed up her feelings towards the Titans.

Everyone in the business had heard of the Fabulous Five – who hadn't? – and the general consensus was that they had been foolish Pollyanna kids, sidekicks half of them, who'd been forced to give up their jobs at a word from their mentors.

And even when they regrouped a little while ago – as yet, Madame Romano was inclined to think them just as stupid, just as unprepared for the 'real world'. That impressionable mayor of Jump City had been eager to sign them on as slave labor – the only cost was housing, and even then there was a budget capping the price.

Only two events of interest had happened – the jailbreaks of two slobbering fools, Plasmus and Cinderblock; and some alien criminal – Komand'r of Tamaran, was it? – stealing some alien baubles.

_Had he anything to do with them?_ Madame Romano had been inclined to think of those incidents as unrelated trifles. Now she was not so sure.

'After the original Titans disbanded, the H.I.V.E. very kindly dropped my contract – with certain conditions, of course.' She could almost hear the flush of embarrassment in his voice. It must have stung, to one as powerful as the Ter― Slade.

'Surely it does not apply to the current team?' Madame Romano strove to sound as sympathetic as possible. Empathy was one of those so-called 'feminine' virtues she despised, but she was aware that playing this up would often glean a vital datum.

'That's just it. It does. Oh, I can think of how _easy_ it would be, but the fact remains, Madame Romano, that I don't _want_ to do it.'

Her eyes gleamed, and she paused. This was fascinating – unheard of! He didn't _want_ to kill the Titans! She said nothing, but it was evident she desired more information.

'Let me tell you something. Frankly I have no interest in half-rate heroes, whatever their mentality. But I relish the challenge of taking on the great and the glorious, the brave and the bold. There is something that draws me to them. It is like art to me, these executions. It fills my soul, completes it, makes it whole.'

'I quite understand.' Unfortunately she was no longer spry enough for fieldwork. She missed the sensation of control when she cornered the target, the adrenaline rush as she made her escape.

'But these Titans – they have so much potential! Unnoticed, it is true, by their seniors – those "veterans" who strut around, thinking only of their strength!

'Beast Boy, though – he knows how serious life can be; he is an outcast, has experienced rejection; he has valuable exploits with the Doom Patrol.

'Then there is Cyborg – an inferiority complex there, but once he begins a project, he follows it through to the end.

'Starfire might be a guileless Tamaranean girl, but there is a certainty of success, is there not, when you can shoot lasers from your hands? and I do not think I am wrong when I believe she has known suffering, which has hardened her, like gold tested in fire.

'Now there is Raven – and Raven could destroy the world if she put her mind to it, I believe. She is half-demon, I have learnt that, and she could easily have leanings towards temptation… she might be susceptible to the old Snake in Eden ruse.'

'You have a point there,' agreed Madame Romano. 'Yes; I do not doubt the veracity of what you have said.'

'But Robin!' continued Slade smoothly. 'Robin was trained by the Batman, and is he not the World's Greatest Detective? Young Robin has initiative. He is logical, he can spot patterns. And he ranks among the best hand-to-hand combatants our world will ever see. Another thing: he does not have the mistakes Batman has. Robin can also be carefree and laidback; and he would die for his friends.

'Ah, the blissful innocence of youth. He's grown up, yet he's still the same supple protégé. He reminds me of myself, Madame Romano. And for the sake of him alone I will not kill the Titans.'

Madame Romano drew herself up.

'You remind me of your son,' she noted icily.

_Sentimental fool_, she added.

'Andrea, Andrea,' murmured Slade. 'You know as well as I do that under the hands of the new leadership the H.I.V.E. will come to naught. All its stratagem will never reach fruition. What does a contract matter?

'Let me offer you a deal, Andrea. I will supposedly "hire" the services of your H.A.E.Y.P. agents – the "best" – and give them the order to assassinate the Titans―'

'Really! They're _pathetic_ students, Mr. Slade, frankly speaking. They lack the nerve to take executive action. When I was _their_ age – I suggest you contact some other agency if you need inexpensive aid. Try HYDRA, for example.'

She was being brutally honest now. Yes – it was uncanny how Slade always put his finger unerringly on the spot – she was disillusioned with the H.I.V.E. Perhaps she might leave the Establishment – after all, she had been in it since she was a sprightly eighteen.

'I don't _care_ how good they are, Andrea,' chuckled Slade. 'I just want them to deliver a message to the Titans: one word – Slade. Enough to pique Robin's interest – to lure him into a downward spiral – to bring him to _my_ path of darkness…'

'Ah. I see.'

An apprentice. They all wanted apprentices. Maybe because a hired gun was forced to leave the family life, but parental instincts kicked it; and it would be harder for someone like Slade, who had once _had_ a family to raise.

Of course, up till now, very few had actually taken apprentices – out of the natural paranoia that they might be turned upon. And _no one_ had succeeded in corrupting a hero.

Then again, Slade was different. He had broken quite a lot of norms – among those many instances, his chivalrous instincts from the army had once kicked in (what was that woman's name? Lillian, wasn't it, Lillian Worth?)―

'An apprentice,' she echoed. 'Very well. And if you're going to double-cross the H.I.V.E., you might at _least_ think of me.'

Turning round and balancing expertly on those heels of hers, Madame Romano strode resolutely out of the room. She threw over her shoulder as she left a pert:

'Goodbye, Termy-boy.'

Slade merely laughed.

_Wintergreen?_ he asked, composing a mental memorandum. _Be sure to escort Madame to Lausanne after Project: Final Exam is concluded. I have a feeling that she'll come after _me_ if not!_

THREE WEEKS LATER…

'My plans demand operatives who can function in the real world…'

And as she bowed, Madame Romano gave a flighty giggle. Mr. Slade might be a sociopathic monster, but he knew how to butter up old ladies.

**A/N:**

The H.A.E.Y.P. Headmistress I named after Ms. Andrea Romano, voice-director of _Teen Titans_. She cameoed as the Headmistress in _Final Exam_, and also as General Phillippus on _Justice League_ (e.g. in _Paradise Lost_ and _The Balance_).


End file.
